She doesn’t know what she’s done to get through the shit she’s going through.
She doesn’t know what the heck is wrong with the world around her.
She just wants it to end.
She’s had enough.
She can’t take it anymore. Not any longer.
There’s two ways to end it.
A thousand to not to. But she wants it ended.
Either she could end her life.
Or she could run away.
But where would she go?
Ending her life would be a direct ticket to hell.
Running away.. to whom? She doesn’t have a place to run off to.
And there, settles the frothing foam.
There, the lava goes back in to erupt later.
There, deflates the rage.
There, numbness barges in.
Is she dead?
Is she alive?
Is she a living dead?